Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 329: Grandfather and Grandson (2)

A stage of experience prepared for the grandson, who must don the violet long robe, attain the rank of the Divine Sword Master, become the master of the Transcendent Sword, and accumulate great merits.

For a moment, it was as if a typhoon had descended.

The energy channel of the upper dantian collided with Ma Yeon-jeok, yet the shockwave itself emanated from Jeong Yeon-shin.

A violent storm, as if tearing space apart, raged wildly.

Hwaaak—!

The spirituality of the upper dantian instantly transformed into a fierce wind. Different in nature from true energy, it surged in all directions like a wave of internal force.

Dust from the ochre-colored clearing was overturned, and thick clouds of dust rose as if a thunderbolt had exploded.

An invisible pathway crumpled. It struck Ma Yeon-jeok’s head and shattered into pieces.

Amidst this, for just a brief moment—

A tremendous presence arose from Ma Gwang-ik Seomye.

It was as if an unseen dragon had suddenly coiled itself. A vast shadow momentarily loomed over a mountain peak before vanishing.

In that fleeting instant, an overwhelming sense of liberation swept through Jeong Yeon-shin’s entire body. It felt as if his innate senses and the internal energy within him had completely merged.

But it was short-lived. The sensation dissipated almost immediately.

Yet, that alone was enough to dispel the sword light that had filled Jeong Yeon-shin’s vision.

Mo Yong Family Head had withdrawn his Meteor Sword Art with an overwhelming surge of internal energy. Only fragments of the sword aura, a mix of white and colorless light, scattered through the air.

It is said that the bodies of supreme swordsmen exist in a state akin to Heart-Guided Swordsmanship—meaning their subconscious is directly linked to the speed of their strikes.

With no limit to the speed of their sword techniques, some of the most terrifying supreme masters were rumored to be capable of killing with just the intent of their energy waves. Conversely, they could also withdraw their killing intent just as swiftly.

In the moment that the heart of the Holy Radiant Grand Sword Sovereign hesitated, his sword strike was also retracted.

That was why Jeong Yeon-shin remained unharmed. He stood there, his eyes slightly lowered, motionless, with only his long black hair fluttering beneath his shoulders.

“......”

Mo Yong Jung-rak silently gazed at the Ma Gwang-ik.

Then, standing in place, he flicked his sword once.

Swaak!

"A curious trick."

He spoke.

"It is worthy of being called Absolute Deception. I heard tales of a sect that once dominated Hangzhou with mere false bravado in martial arts—did you craft this technique after hearing those rumors?"

The Mo Yong Family Head had ceased his sword strikes.

To any observer, his previous actions seemed as if he was wary of a counterattack. This was unlike the nature of a supreme patriarch whose every move was meant to sever life like the law of nature itself.

It was an anomaly in the martial world. The subtle shift in Ma Gwang-ik's aura had been so unexplainably profound that it was difficult to find a comparison.

The Ascending Dragon Dissolving Harmonization that had struck Ma Yeon-jeok and dissipated had appeared different from reality. Instead of seeming like a decisive secret technique, it had merely looked like a method to interrupt an opponent’s rhythm.

Since the upper dantian’s energy use lacked true force waves, it might have been perceived as a form of spell-based martial arts.

"Spell-based martial arts... perhaps it is not so different after all."

Jeong Yeon-shin thought as he lowered his grip on the Northern Radiance Sword.

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Either way, it was a failure. Ascending Dragon Dissolving Harmonization had not worked on his grandfather. Whatever surrounded his body had repelled the dragon formed by his thoughts.

In that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin sensed a distinct boundary. Something akin to what the Lord of the Imperial Yellow City had once spoken of when he fed him a fragment of the Heavenly Wood Fruit.

The realm of the Divine Sword Master.

"How far am I?"

As he met the deep blue gaze of the Mo Yong Family Head, Jeong Yeon-shin tried to gauge what lay beyond.

Perhaps due to the brief moment his spirituality had resonated with his grandfather’s, it felt both immensely distant and strangely close.

Then—

From the slope below—

"Hoooh."

The Hegemon of Strife let out an exclamation.

His crossed arms loosened slightly. Then, as if inspecting the top of his own head, his gaze lifted upward.

For a moment, the long pink sleeves draped downward like the robes of an immortal. It seemed as if his inner energy had been stirred.

It was the demeanor of an absolute master.

"Such an astonishing divine technique. Even an outstanding presence can be felt."

Ma Yeon-jeok burst into hearty laughter. His eyes gleamed with deep intrigue, reflecting his innate nature.

"I had sought a Flood Dragon’s Inner Core out of concern for you, but to think you’ve already reached this level... I am now eager to witness the full display of your divine skill."

On the elevated clearing, facing the Mo Yong Family Head, Jeong Yeon-shin immediately realized.

His grandfather, who had been savoring the lingering impact of the technique, had fully grasped his secret technique.

The core principle of Ascending Dragon Dissolving Harmonization—which created identical conditions between the user and the opponent—had been recognized as outstanding presence.

It was a statement from a former Divine Sword Master, one who had surpassed the pinnacle of martial prowess. It gave Jeong Yeon-shin a peculiar feeling.

"It is irritating. Let us begin."

The Mo Yong Family Head suddenly strode forward. Not like a being of overwhelming might, but as a man with slightly furrowed brows.

Was he displeased with being treated as a mere spectacle? It was a rare sight for the patriarch of one of the Eight Great Families.

His steps were just as unhesitant.

Thud.

Ignoring the measure of distance, he closed the gap as if the entire martial world belonged to his sword.

The pressure that surged forward was immense, akin to a Sovereign Sword Form. From the supreme swordsman of the Mo Yong Clan, transparent heat waves seeped outward like mist.

Without any specific motion, he was already defining the domain of his sword. Whether it was swift swordsmanship or illusionary techniques, every movement would be faster and freer within this space.

Patriarch of the Eight Great Families.

The Strongest in Liaodong.

Thud— thud—

Each step grew deeper. With every footfall, sword energy coiled up from the ground like threads.

Just by refining his sword domain, the space around him wavered. Even the long robe of Ma Gwang-ik was pressed tightly against his skin.

This was no two-on-one fight.

It was a duel between Holy Radiant Grand Sword Sovereign and Jeong Yeon-shin alone.

This was no mere regional martial contest—it was an event that would be watched by the entirety of the martial world.

Thunder rumbled beneath Jeong Yeon-shin’s feet.

Final Thunder Blossom.

A transparent bloom unfurled around his body. The ground trembled with vibrations.

The petals, shaped like a lotus flower, glowed translucently and emitted a void-like hum, devoid of life yet reverberating like a thunderclap.

Uuuuuung—

The overflowing aura surged outward, filling every corner of his body. Agonizing pain tore through his meridians and pressure points, but the indomitable spirit of the Azure Qilin erupted forth. Even the air around Jeong Yeon-shin’s grip on the sword wavered.

Mo Yong Jung-rak paid no mind. He merely furrowed his brows slightly and advanced.

A feat that would be revered as divine among mortals was mere commonplace scenery in the eyes of the Eight Great Patriarch.

"(Yeonhwa Nata) Lotus Manifestation. Very well, let’s see it."

Mo Yong Jung-rak abruptly swung his sword down, his arm moving with effortless grandeur.

Boom!

The shockwave exploded right in front of Jeong Yeon-shin’s palm. His sleeve was instantly blown upward.

Using his left hand, the one without a sword, he unleashed Hwan-gang. But the sharp sword energy completely crushed his palm strike, embedding itself in his flesh.

The recoil shooting up his arm was immense. His elbow throbbed from the impact.

There was no other choice. He needed time to activate Transformation of the Celestial Dragon again. It was a martial art that compressed the upper dantian like a muscle.

‘Tsk.’

He flung his hand wide to shake off the impact. At that moment, a blinding flash flickered in his vision.

Meteor Sword, Second Form.

Blood splattered from his palm, staining part of his vision. Even so, he concentrated, forming the seal of Geomroe Seomreung Style on the acupoint in his right palm.

Simgeuk Girin.

A burst of energy erupted wildly from his entire body.

Stepping into Hwanikbo, he twisted backward, his sword tracing a perfect arc in midair.

In that instant, the lotus petals surrounding him resonated in unison.

Claaang!

The force of his rotation, combined with the sword strike, successfully deflected Mo Yong Jung-rak’s attack.

A sharp vibration spread through his palm, but a strange sense of satisfaction filled him.

He wasn’t completely overwhelmed in terms of raw force.

‘This is manageable.’

Mo Yong Jung-rak was different from the leader of the Jegal Clan.

Jegal Cheon-sang had been lucky in his final moments. He had the counter for Ak Su-rim’s techniques, which had allowed him to face her.

But Mo Yong Jung-rak had no such counter for Seomye’s sword lineage.

Even if he did, Jeong Yeon-shin would simply use it as a stepping stone.

A low chuckle escaped Mo Yong Jung-rak. He didn’t advance. Instead, he slowly twisted the sword in his hand, turning it this way and that.

It was as if he was savoring Jeong Yeon-shin’s swordsmanship, indulging in its depth.

He truly was a man obsessed with the sword.

"Not bad. The Tyrant Sword Maniac kept you alive for a reason."

That was the title of The Tyrant Sword Master.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s lips curled downward, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

"You know The Tyrant Sword Master?"

"I saw him back when he was still a foolish prince, running for his life after his kingdom fell, groveling before Hwasan’s Yul-ha for a meal. He didn’t seem to fit that place very well. Yul-ha, on the other hand, was already shining back then."

Hwasan’s Yul-ha—that would be the sect leader of Hwasan, Sacred Fire Sword Deity, Yulha Nangnang.

Had they known each other through the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering of their generation?

"A fool...?"

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke again.

"Do you know anything else?"

"I know plenty about his worthless dream. He was consumed by impatience."

Mo Yong Jung-rak's thick lips curled slightly.

"But it doesn't seem like something you need to concern yourself with."

"......?"

"How do you plan to make it out of here alive?"

Wooong.

A pale light shimmered along Mo Yong Jung-rak’s blade. The air around him turned cold.

It felt as though the entire world had shifted to another place. The sky darkened momentarily, just like when his grandfather, Ma Yeon-jeok, had manifested. His energy alone was enough to blot out the sunlight.

A blue light flickered in Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes.

He focused on Mo Yong Jung-rak’s fingers gripping his sword, observing the flickering veins at his wrist. His gaze swept over the distortions in the air—trails of energy bolstering the momentum of the Meteor Sword.

The moment Mo Yong Jung-rak subtly tilted his wrist, Jeong Yeon-shin perceived the exact trajectory of the incoming strike. His nerves were on high alert.

Heavenly Sight.

This was a moment to mobilize everything he had developed. If he allowed even one strike to land, he would be killed.

Even though his grandfather had stopped Sim Mu-ryeon from interfering, he wouldn't be able to make any real progress if this remained nothing more than a friendly spar. That was the reason why Ma Yeon-jeok had not intervened, even when his left hand burst with blood.

Now, it's time.

To step forward into the violet.

The grinding sound of gravel beneath his feet resounded, and at the same time, the two blurred figures collided at the center.

Zzeoong—!

A violent shockwave surged like a storm, sweeping down the slope and even tugging at the hems of the martial warriors' garments.

"......!"

The martial forces of Sim Mu-ryeon.

The high-ranking warriors, regularly sent as tributes to the northern regions, failed to hide their astonishment. Some even raised their eyebrows in sheer disbelief.

Even in the presence of their own supreme leader, Sim Mu-ryeon, the shock on their faces was palpable.

Standing near her father, Gun Yu-rin paid no mind to the reactions of °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° the subordinates. She ran a hand through her long, coarse black hair, staring at Jeong Yeon-shin.

Beside her, the one-armed Jeon Baek-do mirrored her expression. His slightly parted lips made it difficult to associate him with the refined demeanor of a scholar.

The Lotus Manifestation clashing swords with the Holy Radiant Sword Lord.

Were they simply measuring their power? The distorted currents of energy rippling up the slope suggested something far beyond that. It was something impossible.

Dressed in black with his long hair whipping wildly, Jeong Yeon-shin no longer seemed human. The weight of his nickname, despite sounding somewhat childish, now felt entirely justified.

Whoever had given him that name had done an incredible job. Even as he was being pushed back, the shifting tides of battle were evident even to the lesser-skilled warriors. A truly awe-inspiring sight.

‘How old is he again? Is that really a person?’

Gun Yu-rin was torn between constant amazement and deep concern.

Her father, the leader of Sim Mu-ryeon, stood at the forefront of the martial ranks. The pristine white fur of his cloak, usually unmoving, now stood on end.

Saaa—

A formless, overwhelming energy began to rise. Even the faintest brush against it sent a tingling pain through the skin.

After the petals of the Lotus Manifestation had withered, something else had begun to sprout in its place. Now, it surged as if it would send that white-furred cloak billowing like a battle standard. The ground beneath their feet looked ready to split at any moment.

In this instant, Gun Yu-rin found herself mirroring her father’s thoughts.

"That man is dangerous."

It was easy to see why.

Given the relationship between the Imperial Household and Sim Mu-ryeon, anyone could deduce that if Ma Gwang-ik were to die here, the consequences would be catastrophic.

However, at the same time, Ip Hwang-seong had always been a thorn in Sim Mu-ryeon’s side, opposing them at every turn. The conflicts between the martial sects and the Imperial Court were inevitable.

Her father was likely weighing the pros and cons.

He was calculating what the world would look like ten years from now, envisioning the future of the Seomye bloodline. He was assessing the repercussions Sim Mu-ryeon would face from the Imperial Court if they killed Ma Gwang-ik here and now.

The current Sim Mu-ryeon, Gun Wang-mu-je, Duke Gun Wi-hu, was a supreme martial master. If he so wished, he could step onto that mountain peak in an instant. His thoughts alone could manifest into action.

No matter how skilled the interloper with folded arms was, one decisive strike would reach Ma Gwang-ik. And that attack would be fatal for Jeong Yeon-shin, who was already struggling against Mo Yong Jung-rak.

Swik.

At the moment her father’s figure blurred, Gun Yu-rin’s eyes wavered slightly.

She thought to herself.

She had grown somewhat attached.

Hwaaak!

From the slope to the peak, the air contracted as if walled in by an invisible fortress. It was the aftermath of Sim Mu-ryeon, Gun Wi-hu, making his move.

The Martial Radiance Art of the Warlord Emperor was an absolute technique. It never permitted evasion.

A martial art known as the pinnacle of Blunt Techniques—even more direct than the Imperial Sword Form, it prioritized raw power over finesse.

It intertwined internal energy with the natural world, generating a colossal force of vacuum, pulling both the opponent and himself into a collision—a divine skill of absolute force.

Once, the impact condensed upon his shoulder had shattered the defensive walls of hundreds of Northern Yao warriors. In Henan, it was said that only the Abbot of Shaolin could contend with him.

Kwaaaaaaa—!

A circular shockwave erupted belatedly, rolling in layers.

Bushes, peeking intermittently from the rocky ground, were ripped from their roots and hurled away. A tidal wave of dust surged, engulfing the surroundings in a thick haze.

Through the Command-Sealing Gaze Technique of Sim Mu-ryeon, Gun Yu-rin could see it all—her father’s form carving a perfect trench straight toward the peak.

A comet of unstoppable force.

A translucent, colorless barrier of internal energy engulfed his entire body, radiating an unfathomable density. The Martial Radiance Divine Armor. Even at a glance, there were more than ten layers of protection.

It was a level of defensive reinforcement meant to counter a man who had slain an army of a hundred. His posture conveyed absolute confidence—even if he were struck once, it wouldn't matter.

He had deemed it worthwhile to eliminate the Lotus Manifestation so long as he didn’t sustain a fatal wound.

The Martial Radiance Divine Armor was both a defensive aura and an offensive strike. Its sacred energy functioned in accordance with ancient techniques. Now, standing in Jeong Yeon-shin’s immediate proximity, it had more than enough force to shatter his spine.

But then—

A large hand, wreathed in fragments of blue flame, seized Sim Mu-ryeon’s forearm.

A massive hand—capable of gripping the thickly corded muscles of his arm in a single grasp.

It happened in an instant.

The colorless, translucent Martial Radiance Divine Armor buckled inward.

A sharp, grating sound, like the shrieking of torn metal, rang out. Sparks of blue lightning exploded in all directions from the unknown grip.

Sim Mu-ryeon’s jet-black eyebrows twitched.

"You’ve miscalculated."

The voice came from beside him, in the empty air.

A man clad in deep crimson robes stood, radiating an overpowering presence that crushed the very atmosphere.

"You shouldn’t have done that."

At that moment, Ma Yeon-jeok twisted his waist.

Before Sim Mu-ryeon—or anyone watching—could even widen their eyes, his arm was yanked skyward.

The veins on the Peerless Warlord’s hand bulged, glowing with an eerie blue energy that crackled like dragonfire.

Then—

Zzeojeojeok—!

The sickening sound of flesh tearing rang through the battlefield.

Sim Mu-ryeon’s arm was wrenched from his torso.